The story of Vicky and Ken, married on September 24, 2005. This is their lives, their world, the way they see it.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

The inevitable dread after speaking…

I’m guessing its residual stress – six months of unemployment will get you some stress, my friends – or the sudden whack to my sleep schedule or the oddity of feeling wanted… either way, I had another funky afternoon.

Someone kept watching me, sneaking peeks just around my office door.

Of course, there was no one there. I was hallucinating it. And the funny thing about hallucinating is that it doesn’t just stop when you realize you’re hallucinating. Oh, no. It keeps going. And it’s just as annoying then, too.

So, for about an hour, I kept looking over my left shoulder to see what it was that was sneaking peaks and, as soon as it did, it would dart back out of view… of course.

But that’s not what this is about.

This is about what happened last night.

“Is this supposed to make me happy?” Vicky asked in response to my story about the raindrops that weren’t there that were falling on my head. It was clear that she wasn’t.

“What do you mean?” I asked… probably too innocently.

See, the thing is Vicky doesn’t particularly like it when I hallucinate. In fact, she pretty much hates it. I’m sure she remembers stories of things I did “before” and is afraid of Ken landing in some hospital with cushioned walls.

I probably should be more sensitive about her feelings, too.

But from my perspective, things are fine. After all, I’ve been hallucinating (on and off) for about half a decade now and I’ve been able to manage just fine – AND I’m not getting any visits from my ex-wife! So, things could be worse. And talking about it actually helps me feel like less of a freak!

But, for Vicky, this just started a couple of years ago – and she’s probably wondering when it’s going to stop.

I really don’t know. Yes, I worry, too, but I try to make a game of it. When you consider how badly I was damaged and for how long, a little non-existent rain, someone playing “I spy”, even spotting the living dead on the freeway, it isn’t all bad.